


Oversensitive

by RedHead



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Hair Pulling Kink, Hand Jobs, M/M, PWP, Smut, fighting turned into sex, seriously, that's about it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-05
Updated: 2015-08-05
Packaged: 2018-04-13 01:59:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,650
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4503453
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RedHead/pseuds/RedHead
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Barry's powers make him extra sensitive to certain things, and Cold discovers it in the worst (or best?) possible way.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Oversensitive

**Author's Note:**

  * For [coldflashtrash](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=coldflashtrash).



> Translation of this work available in Russian: [Hypersensitive](https://ficbook.net/readfic/3820710)

 

They were fighting, again. Barry had caught up with Cold mid-getaway, ducking into a warehouse and making toward a car he had stashed and waiting there. Then it was _on_ , Barry dodging the cold gun blasts as he tried to get close enough to knock it away from Snart, especially before he made it into that car and away.

Thanks to a little luck on Snart’s part, Barry was hit by a cold blast, which hurt but not as bad as it used to, in his old suit before Cisco had reinforced it against attacks of this nature. Still, the pain slowed him down, allowing Cold to get in a second hit. He took a half-second to grin though and it was enough time; Barry pushed through the pain with a growl and was up in his space, knocking the gun away from him.

What he didn’t expect was for Snart to switch to hand-to-hand combat after that. This was never Barry’s forte—he relied on his speed to get him through it most of the time, something that wasn’t working as well as it normally did right now, thanks to the cold blasts he’d received.

Snart wasn’t the type of guy to use wide, swinging punches either—he had quick jabs meant to knock his opponent down swift and hard. Barry managed to dodge but it kept him moving, not landing any hits of his own. Who knew Cold would be so fast?

“That all you got, Red?” Snart taunted, swinging out a leg as he did, swiping it under Barry and he felt himself tripping. At super speed, his hands whipped out and grabbed the lapels of the parka on his way down.

They were grappling then, Barry rolling them over quick, recovering from the fall quicker and using it to his advantage. He pulled back for a punch that the other man dodged his head away from, Barry’s fist connecting with concrete and he swore. Snart took the second he left himself open to slam up, head-butting Barry and—fuck, his _nose_ , he felt it crack, blood pouring out. He didn’t have time to worry about it though because Snart kept moving, pushing them both back, one hand pulling at the back of his cowl to capitalize on the moment until Barry was slammed back onto the concrete beneath him.

He growled, one hand fisting Snart’s sweater and the other catching the man’s fist in his hand before it could connect, using his speed to make it happen. His legs tangled up into the others', speed and grip on his fist enough to let him lunge up, rolling them over so he could get the upper hand again. Snart had other plans, using his free arm—elbow—to propel them further, rolling on top of Barry. The taste of iron and copper in his mouth distracted him and he dropped Snart’s sweater to wipe the blood from under his nose, the break already half-healed. They both took a second to breath, Barry under him but leaning up, fingers still tight around Cold’s fist.

“You know you can’t win against my speed, Cold.”

“Sure about that, kid?” he was grinning and Barry was annoyed, reached up faster than the man could blink to grab his other fist, using his grip on both of the man’s hands to roll them over again, pressing both of Snart’s arms above his head as he did, straddling his waist. Then it was his turn to grin.

“Pretty sure, yeah.”

“You’ll have to try better than— _that_ ,” on the last syllable Snart bucked his lower half up, legs swinging up. Barry had a half-second to think ‘sit on his thighs next time’ before Snart’s legs hooked his shoulders and pulled him back. He let out a shout and dropped the man’s wrists, grabbing his jacket again and they were tumbling, grappling, rolling and Barry was at a disadvantage, legs still around Snart, snarling, trying both to push him off and punch him until—

Snart gripped his hair and pulled his head back, hard.

 _Fuck_.

Barry let out an obscene sound, a moan that reverberated in the mostly-empty warehouse. They both stopped, frozen. Snart was on top now, one hand in his hair, the other up in the air, blocking a punch Barry had been about to deliver. Barry’s arms were in similar positions, attempting to punch Snart and one hand pulling at the back of his sweater, trying to pull him off. Barry was immediately and uncomfortably aware of how close they were, suddenly, his thighs pressed to either side of Snart’s hips, the other leaning low over him, and then—

“C’mon Scarlet, that couldn’t have hurt _that_ bad.”

Barry glared, about to retort, about to push Snart off but the other man pulled on the strands again as if to prove the point and Barry’s eyes fluttered shut as he let out a low moan, long and decidedly not a sound of pain as the other man tugged at the strands. Fuck fuck _fuck_.

He heard Snart’s sharp intake of breath above him and snapped his eyes open again to see the other’s eyes wide with surprise. “That’s not from pain, is it?” he asked, and Barry blushed crimson, anger and embarrassment warring on his features. How the hell did he get in this position?

“I—”

Snart pulled, more gently now but enough and Barry gasped, breathy, heart skipping a beat, words forgotten. “God _damn_ ,” the other man whispered, “that’s one helluva strong reaction, kid.”

He was gonna’ tell Snart where to shove it, he was gonna’ push the other man off, he was gonna’ do _anything_ but lay there but then the gloved hand tightened again and he was gone, moaning and eyes snapping shut, cheeks flushing with arousal now. His free arm moved from trying to punch Snart to clasping his arm, holding on, other hand no longer trying to pull him off but instinctively moving to pull him closer. He felt himself arch off the ground before dropping again as the grip in his hair loosened by a fraction.

“Holy fuck.”

Barry gasped again because the words were punctuated by a gentle, testing tug because Snart _still_ hadn’t let go of his hair and Barry really didn’t care about fighting at this point. He was hard as a rock and incredibly thankful that with their new updates to his suit, Cisco and Caitlin couldn’t hear anything via the comms unless he actively pressed the button because that would be… bad.

“It’s—”

Snart moved his other hand to Barry’s hair and slid it over the crown of his head, through the strands and he gasped and writhed. The hands moved through his hair, tugging him this way and that and he felt himself arching up again, pressing and sliding his body along the other man’s, moaning. Why did Snart, of all people, have to pull his hair and why did his superpowers have to make certain sensations so incredibly magnified, make him so much more sensitive to sexual stimulation?

He gave up trying to pretend this wasn’t happening. It was obviously happening.

“You gonna’— _ah_!—keep pulling or actually— _ah_ —do something about it? This is just— _nnnnnnn_ —teas— _ing_.”

Snart tried different grips, gently carding through the hair before pulling here, gripping there, alternating and his own hands convulsed reflexively on Snart’s jacketed arm and the neckline of his sweater.

“Looking at you, Barry, it seems like you could cum just from this.” His voice was low and rough and Barry forced his eyes to open enough to look at the other’s face, which he noted was at least a little flushed, bottom lip red like he’d been biting it.

“Its— _mmm_ —my powers they—fuck _yes_ , like that—” the other man had gripped the shorter strands at the back of his head and were using them to pull his head back, exposing his neck and he bucked up. This time, Snart took it further, lips latching on to the side of his neck and Barry titled his head back, giving him better access, gasping. Then the other man shifted until his hips were pressing down into Barry’s, rocking their erections together and Barry whined, bucking up into the pressure.

Snart moved his mouth off Barry’s neck, kissing up his jaw and then leaning back long enough to ask, “you really game for this, kid?”

Barry didn’t respond with words. He just titled his head forward to capture Cold’s mouth in a searing kiss, hands moving to grip his sweater and pull him in. Yes, he was game.

Snart didn’t waste any time. He licked into Barry’s mouth like he owned it, tongue sliding along Barry’s, insistent and captivating. He could still taste blood from his almost-healed broken nose but the other man didn’t seem to care. Barry groaned and rocked his hips up again, hands reaching down to the sweater. Cold broke off, one hand still in Barry’s hair and the other attempting to find the zip on his suit.

“How the hell d’you get outta’ this thing?”

Barry’s laugh was cut off by another squeeze in his hair, gasping even as the other man growled in frustration.

“Let me. Just get outta’ those gloves so you can _really_ pull my hair.”

Snart’s eyes went dark and he leaned back, shucking his jacket. Barry sped up, getting the top half of his suit off in a flash then pulling on Snart’s sweater, hurrying him along. As soon as it was off the other man had a hand in his hair again, pulling him up into another kiss, fist tight in the strands. Barry was caught between moaning and kissing, hands latching to the other man, his exposed skin, sliding down his sides. Snart was pushing him back down against the cold concrete again and—

“ _Ah!_ ” he loud out keening noise, arching again, all skin on skin as he pressed up into Snart, clutching his back. He had both hands in Barry’s hair again, gripping it and with his hands ungloved it was so much better, so good, so—“ _Fuckkkkk_!” he swore and gasped and felt hips grind down into his. He spread his legs wider to accommodate, pressing back, suddenly ready to do away with the pants as well.

Snart—Cold? Leonard?—was kissing his neck again then started suck and Barry’s hands convulsed and started to vibrate on his back. He stopped abruptly and Barry _whined_. “Was that—did you just—”

“I vibrate—it’s a thing—pleasedon’tstopitfeelssogood.”

“Holy shit.”

Barry opened his eyes again to see Snart staring down at him, expression a blend of being predatory and something like wonderment. “I—” One hand in his hair slid over his scalp, not even pulling, fuck it was more like massaging but Barry chocked back whatever he was going to say.

“How is that even _possible_?”

“Powers—“ he gasped “—they, _ah_ , side-eff- _ects_.”

“Shit.”

“Mmm.” He writhed under the gentler touches, sensitized now. “C’mon, Snart, you’re killing me here.” His voice was too hoarse, too wanton but he felt like he was on the edge already, just from this, fucking close and it was _cruel_.

“You really _are_ gonna’ cum in your pants just from my hands on you like this, aren’t you?” his voice was low and he leaned over Barry to say it, close to his ear and then the man sucked on his earlobe and he gasped, hands vibrating again. It was Snart’s turn to groan then and Barry wanted to swallow the sound, tilted his head to kiss the other man, hungry for sensation. He felt a hand slide down his front, over his muscles and to his navel, swirling around it, teasing and he shivered. His whole body was too sensitive. Snart broke the kiss in favor of nipping at his jaw and neck again, using the hand still in his hair to pull and maneuver Barry’s head from side to side, alternating kisses and gently sucking, just enough to drive him wild.

He bucked his hips up as soon as he felt Snart’s hand of the buckle of his pants, keening. “You gonna’ make it till I can at least get these things off, Red?”

Fuck he wasn’t even sure. Cisco would _murder_ him if he came in the suit.

“I— _fuck_ we’re on the floor.” He didn’t want to cum with his bare ass on cold concrete either. The fraction of blood left in his brain knew that much at least. Snart leaned up, releasing his hold on Barry and the effect was almost dizzying, his body craving the sensation of that hand in his hair, of Snart’s body over his.

“There’s a car right there.”

Oh right. Snart’s getaway car. Because Snart was stealing something. Barry might have to deal with that after he came. But orgasms were definitely the priority right now.

“Back seat?”

Snart was nodding and standing and Barry followed suit, awkward with how tight his pants were feeling, the tripolymor unforgiving against his erection. He zipped out of his pants before Snart had even opened the door to the back seat, whipping inside before the other man and grinning.

“Slow poke.”

“Show off.”

Barry laughed then sighed when a cool hand dragged up his leg, starting at his ankle and smoothing up his calf, over his knee and then to the inside of his thigh, teasing the edge of his briefs. Snart was still wearing pants, moving onto the seat, pushing Barry’s other leg aside so he could sit between them. Barry’s back was against the far door, one arm over the back of the seat and the other propping him up. He felt his heart beating like crazy, wondering what the hell he was doing as his hormones started to subside, but then the hand on his leg slid up under the edge of his briefs and he stopped caring again.

“Don’t tease,” he heard himself say, fighting to keep his eyes open against the onslaught of sensation. His inner thighs were insanely sensitive, too many nerves alight.

“Getting the sense that _everything_ is teasing with you.”

His breath hitched when Snart’s other hand slid back into his hair, and then— _yessss_ —he let out a long, shaky exhale as the man gripped the strands just enough.

“Gotta’ say, Barry, if I knew it was _that_ easy to stop you from punching me, I’d’ve been doing this a long time ago.”

Barry groaned, flushing and chagrined. “You did— _ah_ —not just call me easy, Cold.”

“If the shoe fits…”

“And here, _mmm ah_ , I was gonna’ offer to use my, _ah_ - _ah_ -mazing vibrating hands on you, show you what the world of super powers can truly offer.” He smirked because he could see Snart’s eyes widen, even as his own hips bucked, desperate for the other man to actually touch him. The hand had stilled in his hair. “You interested?”

“I could be tempted.” His voice sounded raspy and Barry felt powerful, despite being mostly naked with his legs splayed on either side of his nemesis. Even Snart's voice sent shivers up Barry’s spine.

He didn’t hesitate after that, reaching forward with his speed to undo Snart’s belt and zipper, sliding a hand in, over his tented briefs, over the hardness he found there. Snart let out a long, heavy sigh then his hand slid back down Barry’s thigh then up, over his weeping erection covered by his own briefs. When he started pulling down the elastic, Barry’s hips bucked up, letting Snart tug the boxer briefs halfway down his thighs. Even as he did, Barry licked his hand to slick and then reached into the other man’s underwear, gripping his cock, thick in Barry's hand. In hedonic retaliation, Snart slid his thumb over the head of Barry’s cock and he gasped, free hand tugging down Snart’s underwear and then clutching his hip before his hand started to vibrate.

Snart gasped and the fingers in Barry's hair finally moved again, pulling tight and they both groaned. Barry’s fingers were vibrating and he tried to focus on how the cock felt in his hand, hard and thick and full, but the hand on him was so damn distracting. The pace was slower than Barry’s but smooth and sure and all before he could stop himself he was rocking up into Snart’s hand.

“More, faster— _yes_ , god, that feels—go- _od_!”

Snart licked and kissed his neck and Barry stretched it. “Fuck, kid, fuck _fuck_ —you—“ he groaned low and rough against Barry’s jaw, “you _vibrate_.”

Barry tried to focus, distracting himself from tumbling over the edge by kissing Snart again, tongue in his mouth, but god it was too good—his whole body was vibrating, straight to his jaw, his tongue. The other moaned into his mouth, cock thrusting into Barry’s hand, fingers sliding through Barry’s hair in a way that alternated between so gentle it was cruel and rough enough to make him mewl. Barry tore his mouth way to swear, to beg, gasp when it was too much, and goddamn it was too much. The hand in his hair readjusted, pulling forward on the strands and he rocked his hips up, hand on him so good, so perfect. Barry shuddered and arched, quaking, felt the hand in his hair tug just enough and – _fuck_ he came. White hot, half moan half shout in the small space, vibrating and pulsing in the other man’s hands, shaking until it was over.

The hands retreated as he was still catching his breath. There was cum on his stomach and Snart was letting out a low groan, holding himself up on his elbows over Barry’s frame as he shook with pleasure. Barry’s hand was still on him and he had more control now, sliding around the tip, the precum there, stroking down the length and vibrating up and down, slower over the sensitive head, listening to each catch in Snart’s breath, each bitten-off swear until his breath started to shorten, hitch and Barry licked his neck, sucked there and the other man shuddered and gasped, orgasm overtaking him.

They breathed together for a minute in the back seat. Snart was still overtop him, pants undone, cock softening in Barry's hand until he let go, Barry’s legs still framing his thighs, cum cooling and getting sticky on his stomach, briefs still trapped midway down his thighs.

“We’re a mess,” Barry laughed at the sight.

Snart chuckled overtop him. “That’s an understatement.”

The man leaned up in the small space, wiping his hands on a rag he scooped up off the floor of the car before offering it to Barry. He scrunched up his nose but didn’t see too much of an alternative, mopping up the cum on his stomach as Snart dislodged himself and stepped out the car, tucking himself back in and going in search of the rest of his clothes. A half second later, Barry was out and dressed, cowl down.

“Again, show off.”

Barry grinned. “You didn’t seem to mind me showing off my powers a few minutes ago.”

Snart pulled on his sweater and cast Barry a smirk. “From your tone, I’m almost getting the impression you wouldn’t mind doing that again sometime.”

He couldn’t help the smile that tugged at the corners of his lips, looking away for a second before back at the other man. “I mean, it _was_ kinda’ fun.”

“Mmm.” He was putting his holster back on. “You definitely caught me by surprise by your, ah, eagerness.”

He could have blushed, but really it was hard to be embarrassed when Cold had just seen him at his most wanton and hadn’t complained about it. “Are you saying you _wouldn’t_ be interested in resolving more of our face-offs like this, Snart?”

The other man finally turned to look at him straight on, and if Barry didn’t know better, he might almost think the other was nervous. “Why limit ourselves to face-offs, Barry?”

His confusion must have shown on his face because Snart tilted his head, eyes flicking down and back up, taking in Barry’s pose and expression before he continued. “I mean, since you _are_ so eager, I don’t see any reason not to meet outside of the costumes and the getaways.”

“I—are you asking me on a date?”

The other man opened his mouth and closed it, face dropping into a glare before he opened his mouth again, “I just mean, Red—”

“Yes.”

“Yes?”

“A date. You owe me dinner _at least_ for all the running you’ve made me do today, not to mention the, uh… you know.” Shit, and he’d been doing so good on the not-blushing.

But Snart was looking more confident again, more on an even keel and he smirked in that way Barry suddenly realized he liked. “’You know’? Really? Mouth like a sailor when you were begging me to pull your hair—” Barry felt his cheeks heat further –“and you can’t even say ‘sex’?”

“Just buy me dinner, jerk.”

Snart—Leonard—smiled. “Sure thing.”

 

 **Bonus** :

“Barry? Barry! He’s not responding, Caitlin! Do you think Cold got him? We should probably go and—”

“No, Cisco. I think we should stay right here.”

“Huh, but he could be in trouble! C’mon!”

“Oh I think he’s in trouble, all right, but not the kind you’re thinking. He’s going to be in a _lot_ of trouble when he gets back here.”

“…”

“Look at his vital readings from the suit.”

“His vitals? What—oh. That’s not what I—Oh! Ohhhh noooooo—not in the suit, man! D’you think if I yell loud enough over the comms he’ll hear me?”

“I think he’s turned them off, Cisco. In fact, I imagine he’ll be out the suit in a minute or two.”

“He had better be!”

“Cisco!”

“Not…what I meant.”

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Continuation of my drabble from Tumblr for [ColdFlashTrash](http://coldflashtrash.tumblr.com)'s birthday :) 
> 
> Happy Birthday!
> 
>  
> 
> ps - I had less time than usual for editing because I wanted to get this up before the end of the night while it was still her bday, so sorry about any typos!


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